


A Little Bit Square

by UpYourStreet (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, John in glasses, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, mentions of john's childhood, mild swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/UpYourStreet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's always hated his glasses. Sherlock, though, finds them rather fetching. </p>
<p>A little story about John and his glasses, Sherlock being Sherlock, and a first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit Square

John is seven years old when he starts squinting at the blackboard in class. His eyes hurt, he says to his mum, and she tells him they're going to go on a special trip, just the two of them, to a special doctor who can help.

John thinks it's fun at first. The doctor is nice and promises sweets after if John behaves. John has to do all sorts of funny things like read letters and numbers from close up and far away; look into strange machines with strange lights. He can't wait to tell his friends at school that he got to take a whole day off to read some numbers and letters from a chart _and_ got sweets as a reward for it.

But then it stops being fun when he hears the doctor tell him he needs glasses. There are kids in his class with glasses and they get laughed at. John doesn't want to be laughed at.

—

John hates his new glasses. They're black and the rims are thick. He hates how they make him look. There are kids who sit next to him and they always laugh at him when he wears his glasses. They try to steal them when he takes them off. The teacher doesn't do anything about it, just tells John to ignore them. 

When John tells his mum he doesn't want to wear the glasses anymore, she gives him a sympathetic hug and tells him it'll be okay.

The next time the kids laugh at him, John swings a punch at one of them and hits square in the eye. 

John gets in trouble, but no one laughs at him anymore.

—

When John is seventeen, he gets scolded by his sister Harry for not wearing his glasses. John hates his glasses, he only wears them when he HAS to, and Harry sometimes takes it upon herself to mother him about it.

He informs her that she's not his mother. _His_ mother died a long time ago. He ignores Harry's flinch and quiet insistence that she was _their_ mother and instead shoves his glasses into the pocket of his school uniform trousers and stalks off.

Later that evening though, John visits his mother's grave and places freshly picked wildflowers beside the headstone and puts on his glasses and reads her a poem.

—

John doesn't wear his glasses when he's deployed. They get in the way, they're always in the way. He tries contacts, but that's even worse, so John just goes without.

He manages. He's not _that_ blind without them. Mostly. Things just get a little blurry sometimes. He succeeds regardless, building a reputation of being a damn good doctor and solider.

But he still sneaks his glasses on when his eyes start to ache and burn and he wants to read for relaxation. No one ever catches him.

—

When John sighs in frustration for the umpteenth time, trying to squint to read the newspaper, he finds his glasses are unceremoniously dumped into his lap.

Sherlock looks down at him, clearly annoyed.

“Just wear your bloody glasses and stop sighing every other second. It's annoying. I'm trying to think.”

John wasn't even aware that Sherlock knew he needed glasses, let alone where to find the only pair he had.

“And get your eyes tested again. These glasses are at least fifteen years old.” Sherlock says and then flops onto the sofa and ignores John for the rest of the day

—

John starts wearing his glasses around the flat more often. Sherlock never says anything about them, and John relaxes a bit. Starts to get used to them on his face in the privacy of his home.

He doesn't wear them out, and certainly never to crime scenes.

—

Eventually John gets a renewed prescription. He comes home wearing his new glasses. They're sleek, black square frames, not too thin, not too thick, just right. He liked them as soon as he saw them, and when he put them on he actually thought they didn't look half bad on him. He didn't feel like he was pretending to be younger than he was, but he didn't look older so John considered that was in his favour.

Sherlock greets him with surprise on his face.

“What?” John says defensively. He's ready to tell Sherlock this was all _his_ stupid idea.

“Those.” Sherlock taps his finger to the edge of John's glasses. “They look good on you. Good, er… good choice.” Sherlock finishes with a small clearing of this throat and looks as embarrassed as John feels.

“Ta.” John mumbles, and tries not to make eye contact with Sherlock as he walks by.

—

The next few days are odd. Sherlock keeps telling John _Facts About Glasses_ , things John never knew and never wanted to, and as if that wasn't bad enough, Sherlock keeps crowding John into tight corners and small spaces. Somehow John always ends up with his back to a wall or to the fridge or pressed up against countertops, Sherlock always far too close.

It's exhilarating and thrilling and arousing and incredibly annoying because John doesn't know how he's supposed to react. Should he just grab Sherlock by the scruff of his neck and kiss him like John's dreamed about for so long? Or is he misinterpreting Sherlock's closeness and sudden obsession with John's new glasses as mere eccentric behaviour?

John doesn't do anything at all. He just lets the frustration mount and keeps letting Sherlock as close as Sherlock will go.

—

John starts wearing his glasses out. He wears them out to do the shopping, out to get coffee, wears them around Mrs Hudson (she tells him he looks handsome and John is a little bit ashamed that it makes him puff up in pride) and he even wears them to crime scenes.

Everyone compliments him, even Lestrade. It makes John uncomfortable, all the attention, and he tries to deflect with humour.

He doesn't count on Sherlock dragging him away from the scene muttering angrily under his breath the entire time. He doesn't count on Sherlock backing him up against a wall, out of sight from all the police and passers-by, and staring John down.

“Did you hear them?” Sherlock very nearly snarls. “I thought Lestrade was about to chat you up.”

John rolls his eyes. “What is this about, Sherlock? Can we go back? There's a crime to solve, remember? Just over there.” John points in the direction they came from.

“In a minute.” Sherlock says. “I just need to do something.”

John can't understand why, but there's a palpable change in the air around them. Everything quiets down, but everything becomes warmer. John's heart starts to pick up pace. Sherlock stares at him. John flattens himself against the wall, palms to the gritty brick, and waits.

Sherlock's arms come up and bracket around John's head. John has only a second to suck in a breath before his eyes are fluttering shut of their own accord and there are lips pressing against his.

Sherlock's kiss is warm, dry, and tentative. John returns it, every bit as gentle, and John has no earthly clue how long they stand there and kiss like that. Sherlock's lips press and drag and rub over John's; John traps Sherlock's upper lip between his and holds it there before slowly releasing.

Gradually, awareness returns to John's senses. He realizes he's hearing people calling for them.

“Sherlock,” John tries to say, but it's hard because Sherlock keeps pressing his body closer and won't stop kissing him.

Eventually they do part, but it's with soft, lingering kisses. As soon as Sherlock steps away, John adjusts the glasses on his nose and can't understand anything for a moment except how much he wants Sherlock's mouth on his again.

Sherlock makes a soft, strangled noise in the back of his throat. John looks up at him in question, sees Sherlock staring.

There are definitely people calling out for them, voices coming closer.

“Nothing.” Sherlock says, voice gruff. “I just. Like it.” he shifts his eyes down. “The glasses, John. Yours.”

John just laughs. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous. And wonderful. And he feels something like elation in his heart. John quickly clamps it down.

“They're just glasses.” John says, and straightens his clothes and prepares to find the owners of the voices before they stumble upon… upon whatever scene he and Sherlock just had.

Sherlock's hand finds his. He pulls John back, right back into his chest. “When we get home, I want to do that again. Only maybe with you on my lap.”

John bites back the groan in his throat. Goddamn Sherlock.

“Wear the glasses too.” Sherlock whispers.

“Fuck off, Sherlock.” John says, and his voice sounds strangled even to his own ears.

Sherlock laughs and walks off. John follows, pushes his glasses back up his nose, and grins to himself.


End file.
